


Eyes Wet with Tears

by unassumingvenusaur



Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Background Urianger/Thancred but doesn't really appear in fic, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, He/They pronouns for Urianger, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Patch 5.2: Echoes of a Fallen Star Spoilers, Polyamory, Pre-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Set post-E8, Trans Male Character, Trauma, Y'shtola/WoL mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29719863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassumingvenusaur/pseuds/unassumingvenusaur
Summary: Old demons are not so easily left in the past, and Sahri's clash with Ryne's Shiva shakes her to her very core, looking to Thancred in a moment of need.
Relationships: Gaia/Ryne | Minfilia, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058933
Kudos: 6





	Eyes Wet with Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Another Sahri/Thancred thing on the heels of the last one--not nearly as fluffy, though. I feel like the game should have dwelled longer on how much of a near-cataclysm E8 ended up being, and it definitely would have rubbed at some old wounds in Sahri's heart. Since I already delved into Sahri's PoV on these trauma's extensively in [_Her Name_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800083/chapters/68058715), so I tried writing from Thancred's PoV instead. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As usual this draws from the other works in the series but you can probably read it on its own etc etc you know the drill.
> 
> The name of the Warrior of Light in the fic is Sahri Rhoshaan.
> 
> Heed the tags! Sahri has a bad mental health day in this.

Of all the self-made miracles Thancred had borne witness to in his life, he had to admit this was one of the finest.

He could hardly believe his own eyes, turning his gaze about the campsite that he and his comrades had established on their first excursion to the Empty. Green grass, trickling water, a faint, gentle breeze...They had done it. They’d actually gone and done it. They’d brought life back to the Empty. A welcome catharsis after the terrifying ordeal the five had just endured. Ryne, commandeered by the will of a primal. If Gaia had not intervened in she and Sahri’s battle...Not only they, but the entirety of the First owed her a steep debt. A debt none but they would ever be aware of...Thancred had not doubted the girl’s intentions, per se, but he’d deeply misjudged her. Perhaps he owed her an apology. ...Or perhaps not, he reconsiders as he notices the girl unsubtly inching her way closer and closer to Ryne.

The man suppresses a sigh. He knew he should hold his tongue, and he would. In the myriad possible ways Ryne could have taken after him, he’d sincerely not expected a weakness for women to be among them. What was building between the two was unmistakable. He could certainly recall his young self’s frustration when Louisoux stood in the way of his...amorous endeavours, and he had a tad more self-awareness than to mimic the man’s actions now. Even if it was in protest against the surge of protectiveness which had seized his heart. A father bird, through and through.

Ryne leans over and whispers something into Gaia’s ear, earning a rare, hearty laugh from the foul-tempered girl. Ah, whether he was feeling protective or not, how could he help but smile at such a sight? Perhaps it was wrong to think about the two in the same way he’d eagerly pursued girls at Ryne’s age. They had been subjected to a staggering amount of stress together in such a short time...and just as quickly had their closeness grown. Besides, women tended to love one another differently from how they loved men, for whatever reason. Experiencing that firsthand had been a significant factor in helping him realize he rather disliked the idea of being a woman himself, in fact…

“I’m a tad winded--I believe I’ll go take a seat in one of our tents.”

Ah, Thancred was so caught in his thoughts that he’d nearly forgotten Sahri still stood among them. She wore a vexingly neutral expression... He’d expected her to be more excited at the triumphant sight before her. The woman had been deathly quiet since her clash with Ryne, which was nothing out of the ordinary--she was prone to her long stretches of silence. There was a certain mode she shifted into when the hour came for her to play the dauntless warrior. And yet...something about her words struck the man as strange.

“In the tents?” he teases. “And miss the chance to enjoy the nature we’ve labored so hard to restore?” Sahri says nothing, giving him a weak smile before abruptly turning to walk away. Uh-oh. No snide retort? Now that _was_ certainly out of the ordinary. It seemed Thancred was not the only one who’d picked up on it, either.

“Um...Sah--?” Ryne begins to ask, but Urianger’s arm silently extending before her stays her words. If Sahri noticed the girl’s voice, she made no indication of it, continuing to take deliberate steps towards their tents. Too deliberate--as if she was consciously commanding each and every one. Gaia quirks an eyebrow, and the four watch in a tense quiet until Sahri pulls aside a tent’s flap and disappears from their view. The black-clad girl folds her arms and frowns. 

“Well, she seems even more tightly wound than usual. Does she usually brood when she should be celebrating?” An amusing question to come from Gaia’s of all lips. Ryne clutches her chest.

“Only when something is wrong. Knowing her, she must be injured and trying to hide it…” The girl’s fists clench, eyes growing a distinct sorrow. “...It’s my fault. I should go see if she needs my help.” Ah...So the giddy haze of Gaia’s rescue was finally being supplanted by guilt, as Thancred knew it would. Yet again, Urianger stops the girl.

“No. I do not believe she needeth such assistance. Rather, I suspect your presence mayest exacerbate matters, dear Ryne.”

“...What?” The poor girl sounds devastated. Admittedly, Thancred also wonders why Urianger would say something so seemingly cruel.

“What exactly is it you ‘suspect,’ then?” Thancred asks. Urianger pauses before sighing, giving a shake of their head.

“I will not presume to speak on our friend’s behalf.” He locks eyes with Thancred, gaze urging a certain seriousness. “And yet it is clear she requireth a confidant. There existeth little doubt with who she would be most candid.”

Him, Thancred knew they meant, and they were not wrong. Among the four, Thancred was the only one to which Sahri had opened her heart in full. ...In fact, with the Exarch wrapped in his studies of potential soul vessels and Y’shtola deep under the sea in Anyder, he may well be the only person in the entire Shard she could feel comfortable turning to in earnestness. A daunting responsibility, to be certain, but one that afforded a strange pride--after all, that was a trust granted by choice. Thancred nods to himself, a smile rising to his face.

“Of course. You three needn’t worry, I’ll sort things out with her.” 

“On your own?” Ryne asks, worried. “Are you certain, Thancred?” 

He responds with a hand atop the girl’s head, ruffling her hair. “In the meantime, why don’t you and Gaia take a moment to breathe? You’ve both earned it.” 

“But--”

“The old man is right,” Gaia chimes in with a surprising, if demeaning assist. “Let him deal with it--he’d hardly done a thing today, anyhow.”

“Aside from defend Eden’s core from a horde of sin eaters,” Thancred mutters under his breath.

“Like I said, hardly a thing.” The girl puts a hand on Ryne’s bare shoulder--both their faces turn red at that. Thancred barely suppresses a laugh. There was still one way to redirect Ryne’s attention. “Tell me more about the places you’re going to take me in the Crystarium.” The frowning girl gives Thancred a glance, tilting her head towards the tents to urge him onwards. Urianger nods to him as well, albeit with a smile. Ah, it was not often his was the escape which needed to be covered, but he was grateful all the same. With a small wave, the man takes his leave. 

Now standing before the tent to which Sahri had fled, Thancred pulls back its enclosing flap--and is immediately greeted by the sight of one of their delicate aetherometers clattering to the floor. Sahri’s gaze is fixed on the tool, so intensely that it takes a moment for her to register Thancred’s presence inside. When she does, she nearly leaps. 

“Th--Thancred,” she stammers. “I--My apologies, it slipped from my fingers.” She hastily squats and attempts to retrieve it, but it falls free once again. The woman swears under her breath. 

“Allow me,” Thancred tells her, walking to her side and picking up the aetherometer without incident. He offers his free hand to help the woman up, and she takes it--near-painfully tightly. 

“Th...thank you,” she tells him, averting her eyes as she stands. Ah--the reason for her faltering grip quickly becomes clear. Sahri’s hands are shaking terribly, and upon closer inspection, her every muscle is tense. Thancred frowns. 

“You seem to be in a sorry state. Do you need help tending to your wounds?”

“Wounds?” Sahri stares at him blankly, blinking a few times before Thancred’s words set in. “...Oh. No, my healing magicks were able to account for any serious injury.” Not injured? Urianger had been onto something, then. Sahri pauses, glancing away from Thancred once more. “...Erm. But...Thancred…?”

“What is it? Speak to me,” he requests, frown deepening. The woman takes a deep, faltering breath, tremors becoming more noticeable throughout her body as her hold on his hand tightens. Gods, it tore at his heart to see her in such a terrible way, but he would not compound her obvious distress with his own. The woman’s free arm moves, raising her hand before his face.

“Thancred, you do not…” She grits her teeth. “You do not see...a glow, do you?”

“A glow?” Thancred narrows his eyes, scouring her hand for any hint of what she was indicating, but he comes up short. “...No, I see nothing of the sort. Should I?”

The woman exhales in a shallow echo of what relief might sound like, her shaking growing ever so slightly subtler. 

“Right...Of course.” Sahri brings her palm before her face, gaze drilling a hole into it. She begins to mumble to herself. “In my head...In my head, not reality. ‘member...Remember Shtola. You...you are better than this.” She draws her lips back, tears beginning to slip free from her eyes. Her breathing accelerates. “She is not c-coming down to steal your heart from your chest. She is not...You are better…” The trembling that had subsided surges forth with new strength. “...Should...You should…”

“Sahri.” 

Thancred’s calm tone tears the woman from whatever mental world she’d been determined to lose herself in. Sahri had much experience in concealing herself behind a mask of stoicism, but the task seemed too great at the moment--the man recognized well the type of anxious attack with which she was likely grappling. They were impossible not to encounter when one spent so long in proximity to war, doubly so after the Calamity. A new sight from her, admittedly, but not an altogether surprising one. It was in line with how her emotions would boil over at her lowest moments...Yet this time, he was determined to be of help. Thancred sets the aetherometer atop a supplies crate, reaching forward to stroke the woman's cheek with the back of his fingers. She looks upon him with wide eyes, so he affords her his best smile, attempting to channel how he’d witnessed others assist those in such a state. 

“None of this should or shouldn’t,” he lightly scolds. “Focus on me instead of whatever rubbish is filling your head. I am right here, after all.”

Sahri leans into his touch, posture slacking, but the shaking continues unabated. She speaks through uneven breaths. 

“But…” she begins to protest. Thancred allows her the time to speak. “But not a single...not a single one of these thoughts...i-is new. I know...I know my mind is...Even without her here, I should be...So why…” She sniffles. “Why…?”

Ah. ‘Without her…’ Y’shtola, no doubt. Was this a window into the demons she’d described wrangling in Slitherbough? That would certainly explain why she sounded so disappointed in herself. Though perhaps it was another’s disappointment she was more concerned about…

“Do you imagine Y’shtola would be cross with you for simply _feeling_ some particular emotion in the wake of such a harrowing situation?” he asks her, and the look of shock that spreads over her face tells Thancred that he had hit the mark. “I know that woman a little too well, by now, and that does not sound like her in the slightest. No, what sounds far more likely to make her cross would be to turn away assistance in a moment you needed it for some dubious claim to independence.”

Eyes widening further, the woman pauses for but a moment to consider his words. He can only pray they navigate through her muddled mind and find her better senses. 

“Y...You’re right…” she mutters, breathy, to Thancred’s relief. She looks him in the eyes. “You’re right, you…” Sahri’s face warps in distress and releases the man’s hand, suddenly stepping forward and pressing herself into his chest. She throws her arms around him, clinging tightly, and he loops his in turn. He gives her a pat on the back.

“That’s better.” Alongside the woman’s shaking, Thancred swears he could sense the reverberations of her heart pounding in her chest. Sahri cries in earnest, but her breathing does not steady.

“I-I feel like I’m turning,” the woman gasps out. “The aether--I see the aether...Th-the hunger, it’s getting worse, and I feel, I feel…!”

“Like you’re turning into a sin eater?” Thancred grimaces, knowing there was nothing else she could mean. For his own sane mind, he’d long since forbidden himself from pondering the experience of such transformation. To endure it and _survive_ to _remember_...He’s impressed she was even able to bring herself to this tent. “I’ve seen you on the brink of that, and I can assure you, that is not what’s happening. You’re safe. Your mind is deceiving you.”

“I know,” she agrees. “I know. I know that by now. I’ve gotten better about this, I have. But...But seeing Ryne…” She trails off and buries her face in his shirt, breathing accelerating to the point she risked hyperventilation. Oh, the last thing he wanted was her passing out on him. Thancred rubs her back with greater intention.

“You need to breathe deliberately, Sahri,” he reminds her. An idea floats into his mind, a strategy he’d once witnessed to steady one’s breathing. “Would it help if I counted out your breaths for you?” He thinks the jerking of her head against his chest is meant to be a nod. “Alright. Breathe in, then. One, two…”

It takes a few attempts, but Sahri thankfully manages to anchor her breathing to the sound of his voice. Inhaling and exhaling in as steady of a rhythm as Thancred could provide, the woman’s trembling slowly relents. Her grip loosens, and Thancred watches more and more of her face re-emerge from his now tear-stained shirt. After a few moments, he ceases his counting, and while the woman’s breathing grows shallower, it does not pick up its pace. The two stand in silence, and eventually, even her heart begins to slow…

Good. He’d managed to fumble his way through this, it would seem. Thancred releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. With his own panic subsiding, he is able to study the woman more closely. Eyes squeezed shut, tear-streaked face, a slouched posture leaning against him for support...Gods, did she ever look delicate in his arms. In body and in spirit. And by some miracle, these days, he actually felt like he deserved having her there...He holds her tighter. Even the strongest of souls must be protected in their moments of need. He could give her that, if nothing else.

“...Ryne…” the woman suddenly mumbles, eyes fluttering open. “Ryne, is she…? I didn’t hurt her, did I?”

“Ryne is perfectly well, Sahri,” he assures her, quick to stamp out any further kindling for her mind to run amok. Quietly, he reaches back to the tent flap, pulling it open just enough to peek outside. The three remaining there had gathered by the edge of the lake, and Thancred does a double-take when he notices the two girls holding hands. He suppresses his surge of paternal feelings enough to recognize they seemed wrapped up in lively conversation, both smiling wide. He smiles in turn.

“See? Look for yourself,” he urges the woman held against his chest. She slowly raises her head and turns her gaze upon the girls as well. As they watch, Ryne lets out a resounding laugh they can hear from the other side of camp. Thancred’s heart swells, and when he glances to behold the look in Sahri’s eyes, he knows hers is as well. “Does that seem like a girl who’s unhappy or hurt? You did well to subdue her, Sahri.” 

She lets out a small, bitter laugh. “It was not my efforts which won the day.”

“All the more reason to feel confident in who is standing beside her, no?” 

Sahri pauses, considering this. To Thancred’s utmost surprise, a small smile graces her lips--to his eyes, a most dazzling sight. 

“Yes...Yes it is,” she agrees. At that, Thancred allows the flap to fall closed once more, his attention once again fully fixed on Sahri.

“Feeling any better?” 

“...Better.” The woman wrinkles her nose, but looks up to meet the man’s eyes. “Not good. But better,” she clarifies. “The worst has passed...I think.” 

“That much, at least, is a relief. Do you, er…” Thancred rubs the back of his head. It would be a long while before he became used to this. “You want to...chat about it? I mean, what set this off?” Sahri’s slight smile falls, and she pulls back from his hold. She folds her arms, and Thancred briefly worries that he erred.

“It...is likely for the best,” she says, allaying his fears. She pauses a moment, taking a deep breath before looking to him. “...Did you see the reading on the aetherometer, Thancred?”

He furrows his brow. “The reading? No.” Thancred reaches to take the device in hand and takes a look at its most recent reading--eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “That...That can’t be right.” He directs it towards himself, measuring his own aetherial levels--slightly on the high side for light, as would be expected from lingering in the Empty, but not in any dangerous range. He then points it at Sahri...and his heart sinks like a stone, its initial reading appearing once more. 

“It’s functioning correctly, I’m afraid,” Sahri tells him, voice flat. “I would expect Ryne’s levels are similar, likely higher.” 

Thancred shakes his head, suddenly gripped with terror. “Even I know that is too bloody high. This was all from the battle?!”

“It was. You were watching, weren’t you?” she asks him. The man grits his teeth. “I suspect Shiva drew not only from Ryne’s own Hydaelyn-gifted power, but also Eden itself, and used it to pull aether from the entirety of the Empty. Were I not possessed of Hydaelyn’s...blessing, I would have been a sin eater in an instant.” 

She speaks with the detachment of a scholar--a voice she’d been developing as she’d insisted on helping the study of soul vessels. Perhaps it provided a layer of distance so as not to be consumed in her own emotions once again. If so, Thancred could not rightly blame her. His own heart was certainly racing as the gravity of the situation sunk in.

“...Godsdammit, we need to get you and Ryne out of the Empty and to your beds to rest. Now.” His tone is firm, and Sahri recoils.

“Wha--No, I don’t--” She turns her head away. “...I don’t want them to see me like this,” she admits quietly. Thancred sighs, heart easing--Right. This was not the moment for him to panic. Nor was there a need. However high the reading, it was likely far short of the four lightwardens it had taken for Sahri to show significant symptoms of corruption. 

“I suppose...a few more moments to gather yourself wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Sahri’s shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you…” 

He could see why she wouldn’t want to show herself. Whatever of the woman’s makeup had not rubbed off on his shirt instead was streaked down her face, and even without that, it was obvious she’d been crying. Thancred sets aside the aetherometer and kneels, rummaging through a few crates and bags until he finds a small washcloth. Sahri gratefully accepts it, quickly wetting it with her conjury and taking a seat on one of their cots. Thancred watches quietly as she washes herself, yet she soon speaks again.

“...I know it’s too late to turn back,” she starts, setting down the cloth and folding her hands in her lap. “We’ve walked too far down this path. But I have a terrible dread about where all this is heading. Perhaps it would have been best if we never stumbled across Eden.” Thancred’s mouth falls ajar in shock. “The ability to alter the fundamental nature of the world...It is an ancient one. I...it resonates with some deep part of me,” she admits. “I have little doubt it was developed with Ascian power, and that such power continues to fuel it. My fear is that we know not how to use it more responsibly than they.”

Thancred soaks in her words, utterly taken aback by her sudden loss of confidence in their endeavours.

“It...was a grave mistake to move forward with Ryne’s plan, that is true,” he allows her. “You’ll recall I was opposed to the idea myself, though stronger wills won out. And yet…” He takes a seat at the woman’s side to put them closer to eye level, placing a hand atop hers. “You cannot allow that to distract you from how much we’ve done right. Did you _see_ the beauty out there? The life we’ve restored to this waste? There have been risks involved, certainly, but you’ve handled each and every one. And we’re not going to repeat this particular error again. We’re creating a future where the First can thrive. Is that not worth it?”

Sahri’s face floods with venom. “Thancred, we were one teenage girl’s strength away from causing a new Flood of Light!”

“A new--” the man begins to repeat in disbelief. “However dangerous circumstances became, that is surely an exaggeration.”

Sahri gives a firm shake of her head. “It is not. I could sense it. Not as some product of my addled mind, but in truth.” Her fierceness falls to something more melancholy. “...Trapped in that crystal, Thancred...I felt her inundating me with light. Given just a small while longer, she...she would have succeeded in turning me. And if she could do that, she could do so to anyone she pleased.” She takes his hand between her own. “Had events proceeded any differently, we would have had a new Void on our hands--with sin eaters at the beck and call of a primal intent in washing the world in light.”

Thancred’s blood runs cold. He had no reason to doubt her words. “...A sobering reality,” he admits. “We would have finished the Ascians’ job for them.”

“Not even,” Sahri says, smiling sadly. “The Ascians consider the state of the Void as a monumental error, if you recall. Even they do not desire to leave the worlds in unsalvageable ruin. Shiva wanted to remake it all in the image of her own justice.” The woman pauses, closing her eyes. “...Did you see the moment...Shiva transformed herself into those crystal formations?”

The man rubs his chin before nodding, afraid of where this was going. “It was almost too bright to see, but yes.” 

Sahri suddenly pulls his hand to her chest, eyes flying wide open. As he looked into them, he could see tears pricking their corners once more. 

“That was the very image of Hydaelyn. Ryne’s light was transforming her into its purest distillation…”

“The goddess the world is named for,” Thancred says, finishing her thought. “Well, primal playing at being one, at any rate.” He sighs. “My bad feeling about that one continues to grow. As it does for you, no doubt.”

“...A ‘bad feeling’ may be underselling it,” Sahri responds, some of her tension dissipating at Thancred’s level-headed tone. 

In truth, he didn’t really know what it meant that Shiva had taken on Hydaelyn’s form. Perhaps it was nothing more than a curiosity, some or another unknown trait of light. He would leave that determination for those who had the mind for such. But what the man absolutely understood is how Sahri would have taken such a sight. No wonder her will had been shaken. 

“I will not condescend to you and say that all is well,” Thancred tells her. “And yet there is something that gives me heart, at the very least.”

Sahri tilts her head. “And what is that?”

“If Ryne had attempted all this Eden business on her lonesome, or had only brought you along with her to face the primals she summoned...This may well have been the First’s final day, that is true.” For lack of a better way to react to such a blood-curdling thought, Thancred smiles. Processing _that_ was for later. “But the fact is, she was not alone. The girl has a certain talent for drawing people to her, winning over their hearts to stand beside her. She rather reminds me of you in that sense.”

Sahri gives the man an exasperated look, but a small smile returns to her face. 

“Flattery, now? This is hardly the time to woo me, Thancred.”

“No, I’m quite sincere, I assure you.” He laughs, willing himself not to get carried away in that smile. “Like Ryne, you always seem to draw the most capable among us to surround you--As well as a few odd fools like me.” His voice grows softer. “You fear your connection with Hydaelyn, I know. And yet, if that fear one day proves justified, you will have an abundance of allies to fall back on. To keep you in line, save you from yourself, fight alongside you, whatever the case may be. I’d certainly choose you over Her any day.”

The woman gazes at him...and her smile grows tender. “You know my heart well now, don’t you?” Oh. Thancred’s face involuntarily blooms a bright red. Sahri laughs and leans against his chest, loosely hugging him. Unlike earlier, it was not an act of desperation, but affection. “You’re right, of course. If there is one thing I am certainly not, it is alone. ...Though you should know you’re the _second_ person to make such a promise regarding Hydaelyn to me.

Thancred’s embarrassment fades as her words register. “Y’shtola beat me to it, then?” He moves to hold her in turn. “I continue to have much catching up to do. ...At least I will have ample time to do so. Y’shtola may be cooped up in study on the bottom of the ocean floor, but you’ll be hard-pressed to be rid of me in the coming weeks. Someone must enforce your rest.”

“You...won’t be occupied by the investigation?” she asks, rising from his chest.

“There’s not much left to do here but wait, is there?” Thancred sighs, smile slipping. “...Besides, it’s high time that Ryne begin to adapt to running this expedition on her own. Before long, she will not have Urianger or I to rely on.”

“...That is true,” Sahri agrees, eyes wide with understanding. She tangles her fingers with his. “And no matter what I might say, I doubt I would be able to dissuade her from utilizing Eden further. She is far too stubborn.”

Thancred shakes his head, smile returning. “Her rebellious streak is something to fear. Only the gods know how Gaia will amplify it…”

“I hope you’re prepared to carry around more suitcases.” Sahri grips the man’s hand, expression sincere. “...Do not worry, Thancred. When it comes time for you to leave the First, I will continue to look after her. No matter where she may wish to go, I will be there. I promise you.” 

“A promise for a promise, then?” Thancred cups her cheek, chest stirring with warmth. “I can feel confident leaving her in your hands. I know you will stay true to your word.” His hand slides from his face down to her shoulder. “As for Ryne’s plans for Eden...take some heart. Nothing meaningful was ever accomplished without some risk. I believe you’ve simply gotten far too used to making the only risk your own.”

Sahri lets out a sharp laugh. “You may well be right,” she agrees. The woman closes her eyes, bowing her head in thought. When she looks up once more, her smile is bright. “If we really can manage this...restoring life to the Empty, in full...I can think of few greater ways to honor all Minfilia gave for this world.”

Thancred feels his own eyes water, smile near-painfully wide. “I couldn’t agree more.” He leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to the woman’s forehead. How happy she would be to see them now...Perhaps she was able to, in some way, through Ryne. When the man ends the kiss, Sahri leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek and stands.

“Thancred?”

“Mmm?”

“...Thank you. Truly. I’m ready to return to the Crystarium.” 

“Excellent.” He stands to meet her, placing a hand upon her back. “Time for some well earned rest, then. Feel free to take a nap during the skyslipper ride.” 

“I...might have to take you up on that,” Sahri says, stretching. “When we arrive, I think I will draw a bath. I need a nice, warm soak after all that ice…”

“That sounds heavenly,” Thancred agrees as he rounds up their scattered personal effects. Sahri’s gives a playful smirk.

“You’re free to join me, you know.”

Thancred grins. “Am I, now? Far be it from me to turn you down.” Just as he’s ready to leave, an unpleasant thought floats into the man’s head. “...Hm. I...do wonder if rest will be enough, though, with those elevated levels of light. While you’re at no risk of it worsening, the plight of sin eaters’ victims shows us it won’t exactly disappear on its own…”

“That...is a fair point.” Sahri folds her arms, pondering. “Perhaps we could enlist the assistance of Alisaie and her porxie in combating the corruption, simply to be safe.”

“Her...porxie?” Thancred’s face contorts in confusion. “You’ll...have to explain the details of that one to me later.” Alisaie’s help...That would mean they must explain the situation to her. The man groans. “We are not going to hear the end of the girl’s scolding over this, are we?”

“Nor Y’shtola’s, once she returns to us. G’raha may even join in. Of course, it would all be fully deserved.” The woman seems amused at the thought, and admittedly, the idea of the Exarch fretting like a mother over Sahri _was_ rather amusing.

“That it would,” Thancred finally agrees. He reaches for the tent flap. “Shall we?” The woman nods, and a soft light soon pours in the tent. He allows Sahri to leave first, and then follows her outside--the scene is no less breathtaking a second time. 

“Sahri! Thancred!” Gaia waves at them from the lakeside, beaming when Sahri waves to her in turn. The woman casts a wide glance to the burgeoning green surrounding them. When she is done, she looks the man in the eyes, voice filled with meaning.

“...You were right. It really is beautiful out here, Thancred.” Her eyes are dazzling in how the sunlight reflects off them. His arm wraps around her waist, pulling him closer to her, not for a moment looking away.

“A beautiful sight, indeed.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot harder to write than I expected, but I am very excited now--I am planning to start ng+'ing through the pre-ShB expansions soon and write concurrently to start fleshing out Sahri's story from the beginning. A long term project, to be sure, but one I have a ton of ideas for that I am looking forward to writing out. The next fic I put out will likely be the very beginning of 2.0, so look out for it!


End file.
